


See Me, Feel Me, Touch Me, Heal Me.

by JATPDramione



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Bruises, Cuddling & Snuggling, Episode: s02e12 Master Plan, Good Alpha Derek Hale, Good Jackson Whittemore, Good Peter Hale, Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Pack Bonding, Pack Family, Pack Feels, Pack Meetings, Protective Derek Hale, Protective Sheriff Stilinski, Scent Marking, Scenting, Scents & Smells, Stiles Stilinski Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Stiles Stilinski's Scent, Stubborn Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Pain-Relief Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28891278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JATPDramione/pseuds/JATPDramione
Summary: The events that proceeded Stiles getting out after Gerard kidnapped him.
Relationships: Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, Stiles Stilinski & The Hale Pack, Stiles Stilinski & The Pack, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Comments: 3
Kudos: 90
Collections: Kelly's Picks





	1. Sleep Avoids The Broken

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from the lyrics of See Me, Feel Me / Listening to You by The Who

Stiles walked into his room, his arms wrapped around his torso, trying and failing to ignore the burning feeling just under the surface of his skin. He pulled his lacrosse jersey off, tossing it on the floor haphazardly, rooting through his drawers for some soft pj's. 

He pulled the soft fabric over his bruised and beaten skin, hissing at the sensation. He sat on his bed with a huff. He could hear his dad walking up to his door on the phone, talking to someone about him being missing.”Yeah, I'm not finding any clues here. Listen, if he - if he shows up at the hospital - okay, thanks. Oh, come on, Stiles. Where the hell are you?"

He stood up, walking towards his dad with a hand outstretched. “Right here. It's okay. Dad, it's okay.“ His dad looked up at his face and concern and anger replaced any expression that was there before. He walked up to Stiles, taking his face in his hands. “Who did it?” He asked, holding back his rage enough to ensure he didn’t hurt his son more. 

“It's okay. It was just a couple of kids from the other team. You know, they were really pissed about losing and I was - I was mouthing off, you know. The next thing I know -” Stiles tried to shrug it off like it was nothing to get worked up over, but that clearly wasn’t the right move. His dad’s jaw clenched, and his fingers twitched against Stiles’ cheeks. 

“I want descriptions.” He ordered in his don’t argue with me voice. Stiles backed off, putting his hands up in a placating gesture “Look, Dad, come on. It's not even that bad.”

The sheriff already had his phone back out, googling the number. “I - I'm calling that school. I'm calling them and I'll personally go down there, and I'm gonna pistol - whip these little bastards!” His dad all but growled.

Stiles placed his hands gently over his dad's, urging him to stop. “Dad! I just - I said I was okay.” His voice broke as he pleaded with his dad.

“God.” His dad sighed, pulling him in for a comforting hug. Stiles hugged him back gently, resting his head on his dad's shoulder. 

After a moment Stiles pulled out of the hug, making an excuse about being tired from the game, really just wanting to be alone.

“If you need anything, call me, I’ll be at the station all night.” His dad squeezed his shoulder lightly in what would have been a comforting gesture, causing Stiles to wince slightly at the pressure.

After his dad left he tried to go to sleep, but he couldn't, as hard as he tried he couldn't. Everything ached, and the sheets grazed his sensitive bruised skin uncomfortably.

He tossed and turned for almost an hour before giving up with a groan. He reached for his phone, checking his messages, noticing no number next to Scott's name. 

"Zero texts from Scott, okay ouch." He scrolled down to his one message, Derek (contact name sour-wolf). 'Pack meeting tomorrow at 7, my loft, don't be late.' "Way to make a guy feel special, sour-wolf." 

He looks at the top of his phone screen, checking the time. 6:40, he was going to be late.

He scrambled out of bed, not bothering to change out of his pj's. He ran clumsily down the stairs and out the door, ignoring the sharp pains shooting through him, and he got into Roscoe, giving the hood of the car a loving pat before taking off.


	2. In Your Arms I'm Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is confronted by the pack

Stiles stood in the elevator, waiting for the telltale ding of the penthouse floor, leaning against the wall, twiddling his thumbs nervously.

After a few minutes, the elevator dinged as the door opened wide for stiles to exit. He walked up to Derek's door, letting out a shaky exhale, before knocking.

He jumped slightly as the door slammed open loudly, leaving him face to face with a wolfed out Derek. The rest of the pack stood back, sniffing the air, taking in the acrid scent of his pain and distress.

Jackson and Lydia were curled together in a chair, Boyd was on one of the couches with Erica's head in his lap and Isaac next to them, Peter was on the stairs near the door, and Scott was sitting on the floor with Allison sitting between his legs.

"Hey, guys," Stiles said weakly, rubbing the back of his neck in anxiety.

"Who?" Derek growled, claws digging into the metal door frame.

"It doesn't matter." Stiles huffs as he shoved his way into the room. "Sorry I'm late, what did I miss?" He asked, avoiding all the eyes in the room to the best of his ability.

Derek grabbed his wrist, pulling him back towards him. "Like hell, it doesn't matter. Someone beat you to a goddamn pulp and it doesn't matter?" Derek's alpha red eyes bore into Stiles' as he spoke. 

"Dude, can you not?" Stiles jerked his hand free, turning away from the alpha again, this time walking over to sit on the couch. 

"It happened and it's over, can we move on, please?" Stiles begged, sitting with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. "I just want to forget, okay?"

Derek walked over to the couch, sitting next to Stiles, and comfortingly placed a hand over his shoulder. "I understand, but I just want to make sure you're safe," He cleared his throat. "We just want to make sure you're safe." He corrected himself, caressing gentle circles into Stiles' collarbone. 

Stiles tried not to, but he melted into Derek's touch, realizing that he wasn't just comforting him, he was taking his pain. 

"You don't need to do that." Stiles insisted, while still leaning against Derek's arm. "I'm okay, really."

Derek wrapped his arm around Stiles, tucking the human's face into his neck. "You're pack, Stiles. When you're hurting, we're hurting too."

Stiles tilted his face up into Derek's neck, smiling against his skin, knowing fully well that he would be covered in the Alpha's scent. "Okay, okay, fine." He conceded with a yawn. "I'm too tired to argue."

Derek repositioned them so he was holding Stiles bridal style in his arms, he then got up and walked to the stairs, pushing Peter out of the way with his foot. 

"Let's get you to bed then." He said, climbing the stairs as Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek's neck. "Hmm, okay." Stiles agreed, tucking his face back into Derek's neck. 

"Wait, where will I sleep?" He pulled back to ask. 

"I do have a bed you know." Derek's voice oozed sarcasm. 

"Yeah, but where will you sleep?" Stiles asked incredulously. 

"Stiles, I'm feeling incredibly protective right now. I'm not leaving your side tonight." Derek explained, flashing red eyes at him.

"Oh, okay. Do you cuddle?" Stiles asked as Derek laid him down on the bed.

"Normally I'd say no, but you're my wounded packmate, and I do just about anything to make you feel better, so yes, I'll cuddle," Derek explained while he got into the bed next to Stiles, repositioning them so that he was spooning the smaller man. "How's that? No pain?" He asked, needing the confirmation.

Stiles just hummed, cuddling into Derek's arms, laying his head back on his strong chest. "Okay, goodnight Stiles," Derek spoke quietly next to his ear. 

Stiles mumbled something that sounded vaguely like good night back.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this, it is my first Teen Wolf fic and I am really excited about it <3


End file.
